


As the World Caves in.

by rorybutnotgilmore



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Canon Divergence - Thor: The Dark World, Cold, Cold Weather, Confusion, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fantasy, Feelings Realization, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Frostbite, Getting to Know Each Other, Hate to Love, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hypothermia, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Injury, Inspired by Fanfiction, Jotunn Biology (Marvel), Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Jotunn | Frost Giant, Jötunheimr | Jotunheim, King Loki (Marvel), Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki is Not Amused (Marvel), Magical Realism, Marvel Jotunn Culture, Master/Pet, On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Protective Loki (Marvel), Reader-Insert, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Snuggling to survive, Speculation, Strangers to Lovers, The Nine Realms, Tragic Romance, Trickster Loki (Marvel), Winter, no y/n
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28055211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rorybutnotgilmore/pseuds/rorybutnotgilmore
Summary: You aren’t on earth anymore. No, this is someplace much more sinister. Hypothermia or frostbite will kick in soon, judging by the freezing temperature. You have two choices: Choose to live or surrender and die. Your ears perk up as you hear footsteps, crunching and compressing the snow covered ground. When the being makes it to you, it stares down at your limp and freezing form. You make eye contact with crimson eyes.[Inspired by @maiden-of-asgard‘s Frostbite, including alike characters. A special thanks to MOA for kickstarting my Jotunheim infatuation and allowing me to include some of her characters <3 ]
Relationships: Loki (Marvel) & Reader, Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 40
Kudos: 134





	1. Chapter 1

_Cold_.

That's how you feel.

That's the _only_ thing you feel. 

You’re immersed in the snow on a planet that isn’t your own. You’re sure of it. This _cannot_ be earth. 

_Cold_ , so painfully cold. You’re freezing, alone and terrified while Death waits patiently, and the wind howls. 

You have no clue where you are, disoriented and all alone. The landscape is concealed in white and blue, not that you can make much out. Your head is spinning. Everything you see moves in slow motion and looks blurry, while also strangely precise. The frozen air is killing you from the inside, the icy winds attacking you on the outside. 

_How did I get here?_

_What did I do to deserve this?_

_What happened?_

Your thoughts are muddled as you try to make yourself remember, force your brain to work again, focus on something, but it’s too difficult. _What had I been doing?_ You ask yourself. _Nothing,_ from what you remember. 

Hours pass, maybe minutes, but time is gradually slipping away. Each breath is laboured and unpleasant. Your lungs are aching, head swimming. You’re too weak and afraid to shout for assistance, and much too cold to bother listening to see if anyone is nearby. Nothing seems to matter. 

You have two choices.

Choose to live or surrender and die.

You’re abruptly flooded by imaginary warmth. Heat seeps into your body. It’s comforting and relaxing, but it stings. You recall that this is a stage of hypothermia. When the body is freezing, it diverts almost all of the blood to the core of the body in an attempt to protect all the vital organs. Towards the end, the body gives up and resumes regular blood flow. The hot blood filling the cold limbs again results in the sufferer feeling very hot, often causing confusion, where they undress in an attempt to cool off, ironically enough. You know for certain that death or unconsciousness occur shortly after that. At the moment, you’re pretty glad you took a first aid class.

You hear footsteps. They sound close. How long have they been there? The creature had been capable of getting this close to you, so seemingly a while.

_Go_ , your brain screams, but you’re much too cold, frozen in place. _Literally_.

Whoever is there makes a noise of shock and surprise as they look you over. _Oh no, it’s gonna kill me_ , your brain screeches at you in terror. You feel a slight nudge against your side with something. A boot. A _foot_. _Oh good_ , that means it’s human. Or at least that they have the physical buildup of a human. 

They stare down at you, curiously, and you force your eyes to remain open. You make eye contact with crimson eyes.

You’re too frightened and cold to react, so you assume they think you’re dead. That is until they speak.

“ _Pathetic_ ,” They, _he_ , spits out, “Another _weak_ , _wretched_ , Midgardian _wench_. What shall I do with you, _girl_?” 

Your heart nearly stops. What should he do with you? Does he mean that he wants to kill you, or use you for _other purposes_? Your heart has surely never beat this fast, and you think that you might not die from the cold. Instead, you might die from a heart attack. 

From out of nowhere, he grasps you. You protest until he pulls off his fur cloak and says some incantation, carefully maneuvering you to his lap once he’s seated you in a cave not far from where you’d been laying. In this position, he can wrap you in the cloak. It’s heated, but all you care about is that he’s holding you, someone, he just found dying in the snow. Heat radiates from his blue body. 

You pause. Blue body? You gaze up at him, wondering how you hadn’t noticed that before. _Interesting._

“Since you chose to wander into my realm on your own accord, I’m taking you back to Utgard with me,” He explains, holding you tightly as if he figures you’ll try to escape. _Not at this rate, frosty. You’re the only thing keeping me alive at the moment, which I hate to admit_. He resumes his speech, grip not loosening. “And having a _corpse_ would not be beneficial other than feeding some of the native creatures that lurk around here.” 

Your blood runs cold, much to your dismay, at the thought of being eaten. You can’t formulate that much of a sentence to protest, so with the newfound warmth now in your body, you faintly respond as best as you can to another question that’s been eating you away. “W-who?” Even that much of a sentence is hard to form, but even saying a single word is progress. 

He keeps his red eyes fixated on the wall of the cave, expression fierce and unchanging. “Loki. King of Jotunheim.”

_Loki, king of Jotunheim_. So that’s where you are. _Jotunheim_.

You think the name Loki sounds eerily familiar, maybe even the name of the location you’re in, but tell yourself you’ll think about that later. For now, you’ll just try to stay alive and remain on Loki's good side. He doesn’t seem like someone you’d like to piss off. Or at least not at this stage of your relationship. _At this stage?_ You chastise yourself _. Do you think you’re going to improve your relationship with him?_

You force yourself to relax, disregarding your unorthodox thoughts. As you feel yourself getting warmer, it gets easier, and you get comfier, your muscles easing. You feel safe enough that you can sleep, as ridiculous as that may seem. He hasn’t killed you yet. He’s had the opportunity to, and he hasn’t. In fact, he’s using some sort of spell on you to keep you heated. That can’t be easy. Needless to say, you don’t think he's planning to kill you. At least, not yet. 

An icy hand ghosts along your forehead, leaving behind a tingly sensation. Your eyes begin to droop, unable to stay open anymore. You fight it, but hear an annoyed huff.

”Sleep, Mortal. If I recall, I said I didn’t want to deal with your corpse.” Loki growls, “And once you get your body temperature back to normal, I don’t want to be the victim to your babbling.”

One thought occupies your mind as you drift off into a dreamless sleep.

_Loki_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now in Utgard, you learn a bit more about your saviour, Loki Laufeyson.

It turns out he was lying. Loki is _not_ the king of Jotunheim. He just wishes he was. You find that out when you arrive in Utgard, jolting awake once you hear a commotion. That, and the fact that Loki essentially drops you before he grasps your arm and yanks you along with him. Thankfully, you’ve gained a significant amount of your strength back and can now walk.

There are many voices, murmuring to one another, questioning why _Loki_ , who you now know has a long and complicated last name, is here with a _mortal_. You piece things together pretty quickly, thanks to the direction of the conversation.

“Loki Laufeyson,” A very tall, blue woman drawls, walking up to the both of you. She glances at you momentarily, but that’s it. You’re rather appreciative. “It’s a pleasure to see that you’ve returned.” Her voice drips with false enthusiasm, indicating the fact that she apparently doesn’t want him here. You wonder what he could have done and why he thinks he can suddenly become their king.

“I was promised the throne here once, and now I’m here to claim it.” Loki replies smoothly, “As the first-born son of Laufey, it is my birthright.”

“Ah, but you declined it, did you not? And then you killed your father, King Laufey. You do not deserve the throne, _Æsir_ ,” As the woman speaks, your eyes are fixed to her mouth. She has purple lips and very sharp teeth. Her words hardly render with you, but you notice Loki stiffens at the term Æsir.

“I will not be taking no for an answer, Queen Fárbauti. If you deny me, I will slay your current heir to the throne where he stands, just like I slew your husband, my father, Laufey.” You hear the murmuring intensify and mentally curse at Loki for being so careless. You’re honestly astonished by his boldness in waltzing into a kingdom that doesn’t like him, demanding to be king, and threatening to kill the heir if he isn’t. 

The woman, who you now know as Queen Fárbauti, pauses. She glances at you and narrows her eyes.

“What are you intending on doing with _this_ little creature?” She coos, and you really wish you’d appreciated not having the attention directed on you a little more. 

Loki’s red eyes flash down to you. “A _weak_ little thing,” He grits his teeth, “Who will remain in my care. No one will touch her against my will. Now do not deflect the subject, Fárbauti.”

“And what do you plan on doing with that warm-skin, Loki Laufeyson?” A male asks. Your eyes travel to him. He’s taller than Loki, blue, and has black hair. That doesn’t help you to distinguish him at all, when you look around at the other giants and find them to all have very similar physical traits.

“I don’t believe that is any of your concern, Skrymir,” Loki flickers his gaze to the male, his cold expression never changing. “She is my mortal _pet_ , and I will do with her as I please.”

“How scandalous. The-one-who-wants-to-be-king also plans on sleeping with a Midgardian wench?” Fárbauti laughs, her sharp teeth exposed again. Your cheeks flush and you bristle as she continues. “Not at _all_ an ideal queen for Jotunheim, don’t you think?”

Loki sneers. “I agree with you, Queen Fárbauti. She would make a _pitiful_ queen. Perhaps that is why I don’t plan on making her one. I will keep her as my mortal pet until she dies. Unless,” Loki turns his gaze to you, his eyes harsh, “I get _bored_ of her first.”

Loki turns his head back to Fárbauti while your heart races. _Mortal pet? Keeping you until you die? Getting bored of you and deciding to dispose of you? None of that sounds good._

“You will allow me my position as King of Jotunheim,” Loki claims, his head held high. “As the firstborn son of Laufey, it is my birthright. And believe me, dearest Fárbauti, I would make a _wonderful_ king.” 

Fárbauti tilts her head. “Would you, now, Loki Laufeyson?”

“Indeed I would. I am a master sorcerer and silver-tongue who knows all of Asgard’s secrets. You’d be doing a disservice to your people on the possibility that you withdraw.” Loki glances around, coolly. “Jotunheim could _unquestionably_ use a wise ruler, for a change.”

_Damn him. He’s going to get us killed._

“Perhaps you’ve made a solid point, ormstunga.” Fárbauti’s eyes glimmer with both irritation and acknowledgement. “You shall be given a chance. If you mess it up, you will be eternally banished from Jotunheim.” She flickers her red eyes to you. “Your _pet_ will be killed for you to watch.”

Loki disregards the part threatening your life, and answers Fárbauti’s words with a brief nod. “Excellent choice. Now,” his eyes flicker around expectantly. “I would like to be shown to my quarters.”

Fárbauti nods and beckons someone forward. They gesture for you to follow them, and you nearly have your arm ripped off from the force Loki drags you by, all of a sudden. The walk is soundless and you’re careful to stay on your feet amid the icy floor. It doesn’t help when the two people you’re walking with have long legs and walk with distanced strides. You’re _incredibly_ relieved when you make it to Lokis quarters.

You’re haphazardly tossed inside the room as Loki makes no acknowledgment to the man who acted as his escort. He simply slams the door behind him as he enters, and ventures into the room, looking around.

You stay silent from your heap on the icy floor and watch him move around. He stays silent, expression never easing up. He’s had the same, angry look since you met him. You wonder if there’s a reason for that.

“You appeared unhappy when I referred to you as my pet,” Loki suddenly says, turning his head to look down at you from the opposite side of the room. 

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “I’m not an _animal_. You can’t—“ 

“In Jotunheim, the Jotnar used to keep mortals as their pets. That was many years ago. You’re the first to step foot in this realm in centuries,“ He interupts, slowly stalking towards you. “And you didn’t like being referred to in that way.” He inhales deeply, eyes crazy. “Tell me mortal, _who_ is keeping you alive at the moment?”

“ _You_.” You mumble.

“Indeed. You will cooperate until I can be rid of you. Until then, I plan on keeping you as my mortal pet. If you resent that, you may leave.” 

You look up at him in bewilderment. “ _Leave_? _Where_?”

Lokis lips curl upwards into a sly grin. “That would be up for you to figure out.”

You think over your options, Loki’s sharp eyes fixed on you not helping. Cooperate and have Loki keep you as a pet, but be under his protection. Refuse, and you’re forced to find your own way out of this mess. You’d die almost immediately, from either the cold or by being killed. It’s not worth it.

“I’ll cooperate,” You say with as much enthusiasm as you can. “Please don’t let me die though.”

Loki scoffs out a laugh. “I told you, I plan on keeping you. Your dead body is worthless to me.”

“But you said if you got bored you’d get rid of me.” You blurt out. 

Lokis eyes become harsh again, and he fills the space in between you both. Crouching down, he takes your chin in between two long, blue fingers, gripping it firmly. “If you become a nuisance to me, then _yes_ , I will abandon you. If you behave, then you guarantee your safety. Choose your actions wisely, pet.”

You rip your face from his grip and he scoffs, standing up and wiping his hand on his pants as if he’s disgusted to have touched you. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his antics and stay seated on the floor, ignoring how your legs are beginning to go numb.

“You’ll be accompanying me to Halla Gallópnis,” Loki says suddenly. He’s now looking out the window, which is seemingly made of ice. He spins back around to look at you. “Get up. You’re going to freeze and my efforts in keeping you alive will be for nothing.”

You obey, rising to your feet, shaking out your legs to get the blood flowing again. “Halla _what_?” 

“ _Halla Gallópnis. Norns,_ do you _listen_?” 

“Of course I do! I just want to know what that means.” You say, annoyance evident in your tone.

Loki catches on, side-eyeing you. “Watch your tone. Not every Jotun will be as merciful when you speak that way.” He huffs out a breath again. He’s done it enough that you begin to wonder if something is wrong, but don’t ask, waiting for a response. “ _The halls of the shrill crier_. A psychological test one must go through to become ruler. It is a tradition, so I assume I’ll face the same fate.”

“What do you have to do?” You pry, genuinely interested.

He looks amused as he turns his head slightly to look at you from the corner of his eye. “The short of it is that I must respond accordingly to a situation which will psychologically wreck me. If I can respond well enough, then I become king.”

“That sounds like Divergent.” You laugh lightly but stop under Loki’s annoyed stare.

“People have died because of this. It will unleash something that I have found traumatic. You should not be laughing.” He scolds. “But you need not fret, mortal. I will return fully intact.”

“I absolutely agree with thinking positively, but you shouldn’t get ahead of yourself.” You warn him. Lokis dramatic eye roll is the only response he gives you before he walks back over to the window, looking out. He knows you’re right, so he doesn’t object. You appreciate that.

A while passes before Loki walks away from the window, heading towards the bathroom. He enters and closes the door behind him without a word.

 _Okay, that was weird,_ you think. _Did I do something wrong?_

You’re embarrassed to admit that you’re frightened now that he’s gone. That you _miss_ him. 

_Stop,_ you tell yourself. _That’s ridiculous_. 

Your heart plummets when you hear a knock on the door. When you don’t make any move to open it, whoever is on the other side does it for you. You stand there, frozen in fear. 

The giant who enters is taller than Loki, but not as tall as some of the other giants you’ve seen. His hair is black and curly, his build fairly thin. When he sees you, his red eyes twinkle with interest. He slowly pads over to you, his eyes examining you as he does.

You’re prepared to yell for Loki when the door he disappeared into opens. He halts when he sees the male giant before his lips curl into a very forced grin.

“Ah, hello brother. What could possibly be so critical that you decide to barge into my quarters unannounced?” His tone is light at first, before switching to one of mockery, giving the underlying message of _get out now before I make you_.

Loki’s brother shoots him a tight-lipped smile as if he’s nervous now that he’s been caught. _Idiot,_ you think. _Obviously, Loki is gonna catch you when you sneak into his room._

The brother’s eyes flicker back to you, and you shift nervously. “It was rumoured that Loki Laufeyson had brought a mortal with him in his attempt to seize the throne. I needed to see if the rumours were true.” He pauses. “It appears they were.”

_Yeah, because it’s not weird to want to break in so you can look at someone you don’t know. Don’t these people get taught not to stare?_

Loki sighs in exasperation. “Is that all, Býleistr?” He asks dryly.

Býleistr doesn’t seem to care about Loki’s clear signals that are advising him to get out. Instead, he looks around the room, almost as if he’s searching.

His gaze falls back to you. “Have you hurt it?” Býleistr asks, incredulously. His eyes scan you as you stand there stiffly, wishing he’d leave.

“I have not.” Loki replies, “But I will hurt you if you don’t leave.”

You see Býleistr nearly smile. “I hear you. Although I also smell blood. If it’s not her, then it must be you who is wounded.” 

If Loki’s expression was harsh before, now it’s murderous as he glares at Býleistr. “ _Leave_. I will not ask again.” He growls. You notice he’s formed a dagger out of ice and nearly shriek in horror. 

Býleistr notices it too and nods, stepping back. He walks to the door before pausing. “The queen wishes to go over the details of your royal status. You would be wise not to make her wait.”

Loki doesn’t acknowledge anything as Býleistr leaves, his eyes glaring holes into the place his brother was previously. You want to ask about it, but decide to wait until he’s cooled down a bit. When he breaks from his trance-like state, he moves to go sit on the couch.

After some time, he speaks. “I don’t plan on discussing anything with the queen tonight. My body and mind will not allow it.” He grunts as he adjusts his positioning. “When we do go I will find someone to watch over you if you would like.” 

You know he’s teasing, but it’s still difficult to tell with him, so you turn to face him.

Something is definitely wrong with him by the pained expression he holds. His skin shifts from blue to white, his eyes turning green from their previous red. It’s frightening and your eyes widen comically. You have enough sense in you to follow up on something you noted earlier: Why the name Loki sounds so familiar. _New York._

That’s when you notice the blood seeping through his tunic, effectively staining the fabric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki is injured.

“You’re _bleeding_!” You gasp, rushing over to Loki, who holds out a hand to stop you.

“Do _not_ come closer,” He growls, jaw clenched. “Good observation, _girl_.”

“What happened?” You ask softly, keeping your distance, eyebrows knit together in concern.

Loki scowls. “Do not act like you care. What happened to me is none of your concern.” 

You open your mouth to object, but Loki interjects. “You are a pathetically _dull_ creature, you know? If you wish to argue, you may do so with Býleistr. Perhaps even Queen Fárbauti. I am much too tired to deal with your antics.”

“I didn’t plan on arguing,” You mutter, watching as his shirt disappears, revealing his bare upper half, a large wound adorning his abdomen. Your cheeks flush and you focus your gaze on the high ceiling. 

Loki watches you with his eyes narrowed. “If you care so deeply for me, you’ll make yourself useful and help with this.” 

You lower your eyes back to his, still feeling flustered. “Help you?” You stutter out, wondering how and why he expects you to help him 

“You were the one to point out my incredibly apparent injury. Make yourself serviceable and help me with it.” Loki leans back against the couch, eyes glued to you expectantly.

When you don’t make any move to assist him, he tries to sit up.

“No!” You rush forwards, pushing him back, pulling yourself back when he grunts in pain. “I-I’ll try to help you.”

“Get on with it then.” Lokis eyes are screwed shut in discomfort and you feel a pang of pity. He’d kept his composure so well until now. It was impressive.

You look around for something to stop the bleeding with, heading into the bathroom. You’re awed by the size of it and spend a moment or so looking around before you get to work searching for something comparable to a first aid kit. Eventually, you find something that you decide will have to suffice. It includes bandages and some ominous vials of various tinted liquids. Carrying the small satchel, you head back to Loki.

Upon entering, you see Loki, sitting perfectly normal again, his wound properly healed other then a slight tinge of redness, his composure back to normal. 

You’re at a loss for words, you’re so perplexed. 

Loki waves his hand. “4 minutes, pet. I could have perished within that time frame.”

“You _healed_ yourself? Why did I have to go and get medical supplies?” You cry.

“I wanted to test your loyalty and speed. You scored satisfactorily in terms of your loyalty. _Speed_ , however, not so well.” Loki chuckles, lounging back against the couch. You attempt to ignore the fact that he’s still shirtless, and that his legs are spread as far as possible.

You throw the bag of supplies at him with a glare of annoyance. “Next time, I’ll just leave you.” 

Turning on your heel, you start to walk off, only to be yanked back by Loki grabbing your jacket. You gasp as you land on Loki's lap, his arms winding around your torso.

His breath fans on your ear. “Now, now, _mortal_. That’s no way to talk to your _master_ , now is it?”

You stiffen, even more, face morphing into an expression of disgust. “My— _No_! _What_?”

“I’m _so_ glad you agree.” Loki interrupts. “I think it’s rather rude to speak that way as well.”

It takes a moment for you to understand what he’s replying to, but when you do, you roll your eyes. 

Loki promptly shoves you off of him, the playful mood swiftly forgotten. You stumble slightly before you regain your balance.

“Go to bed. It’s late. Healing myself has depleted me of my strength,” Loki stands, brushing himself off and grabbing his shirt. You notice that throughout all of this he's stayed in his human-looking state. It’s a bit weird, but you’ll just have to get used to it, just like you’ll have to get used to being a human pet in a land that’s made entirely of ice. 

You look around the room. “Where am I supposed to sleep?” 

“In the bed,” He says dryly, kicking his boots off. He looks up at you expectantly when he’s finished. “ _Well_?”

“ _Well_ , what?”

“Are you getting in bed? Or will I have to drag you there myself? I’ll have you know that I wouldn’t be opposed to the second option,” Loki says, eyeing you.

You stay put until his eyes narrow, a sign that he’s preparing to seize you. Throwing your hands up, you walk over to the bed, beginning to take your boot off. When you put your foot down on the ground to move onto the other foot, you gasp at the painful cold.

“Hurry up,” Loki says. You glance over to find he’s already gotten into bed, his back facing you. 

You’re quick to discard your shoes and practically launch yourself into the bed to minimize the contact with the freezing floor, keeping the rest of your layers on as to not freeze.

You lay down, head facing away from Loki, who waves a hand which results in the lights going out. _Gosh_. You hope you don’t snore or sleep talk. Closing your eyes, you try to sleep, but it’s cold. Typically, cold sheets are nice, but not these ones. These sheets seem freezing. 

Eventually, your shivering seems to irritate Loki, because he grabs you, pulling you into his arms so that your body rests against his chest, which, by the way, is still bare. You wish you had his endurance to the cold.

“Your shivering was becoming rather bothersome. Hopefully, now you’ll stop.” He mumbles against your hair. You bite back a retort about how maybe he’s just clingy.

You’re dozing off when Loki wrinkles his nose in disgust. “I’ll have to get you something new to wear tomorrow. You smell _horrid_.” 

“ _Gee_ , _thanks_. You really know how to woo a woman,” you reply, annoyed. 

Loki's chest rumbles as he chuckles. “ _Goodnight_ , mortal.”

You sigh, forcing yourself to relax again. “Goodnight, Loki.”

——-

When you wake up, Loki isn’t in bed with you. Sitting up, you look around to see if maybe he’s still around. When you don’t see him, you lay back down, pulling the furs up to cover yourself a little more. You hate to admit that it’s definitely colder when you aren’t in his embrace. 

After some time, the door opens and Loki enters, clutching a bundle of fabric. 

“Oh good, you’re finally awake,” He says as he dumps the fabric in your lap after you sit up _. Yeah, good morning to you too_ , you think to yourself.

“Your new clothes. They’re a lot less conspicuous. I do hope that they fit.” He eyes you up and down. “They’re for children, so they should.”

“And if not?” You question.

“We’ll think about that if we happen to end up there.”

You sigh, preparing to stand up, looking around for your boots. “Hey, Loki?” You call. “Where did my shoes go?”

“Your shoes?” He asks, looking puzzled. Suddenly he freezes. “Were those yours? Apologies, I had figured that they were to be rid of.”

“You _what_?” You shriek. “That was my only pair of shoes!”

Loki darts forwards and clamps a hand over your mouth, effectively shutting you up. You struggle, but he only grips you harder, so you relax as much as you can.

“Someone was at the door.” He informs you, pulling his hand away. You’re amazed to note that he doesn’t wipe it off on his clothes in disgust like he normally does.

Walking to the door, he takes whatever was left for him, before walking back over. He carries a tray of food. Placing it down on the bed, he waves you off. 

“Go change.” He instructs. “Or must I remind you how horrid you smell?”

“You’ve told me,” You sigh, standing up, the floor feeling horrifically cold against your feet. You look around for a place to change, not seeing anything. Looking back at Loki to ask, you notice he’s turned his back to you. Oh, you think. He expects me to change right here. 

You’re quick to strip from your current clothes, keeping an eye on Loki the whole time. You slip into the new clothes, which fit surprisingly well considering they were made for a giant. You have a pair of fleece leggings that are incredibly soft and fluffy inside, keeping you rather warm. In terms of tops, you have a brown wool tunic and a large jacket, lined with wool and fur. You slip the fuzzy socks on, surprising yourself with how well they protect you from the cold.

You walk back over to the bed, climbing in again. It’s fairly high, unsurprisingly considering that it's meant for giants. 

Loki looks up, scanning you up and down. “It fits nicely.” He shrugs.

_I guess that’s the best compliment he has to offer,_ you muse. _It’s better than being told you stink, at least._

“What’s this?” You ask, gesturing at the tray of food. 

“Breakfast. We have potato flatbread with some kind of milk.” Loki explains, picking up the flatbread to inspect it. He’s probably worried about being poisoned. He has a right to be.

“That doesn’t look like milk. At all. It’s green!” You sputter. 

“It’s milk.”

“I’m not drinking that.”

“ _That_ ,” Loki states, “Is your only option. You’d do best to drink some. We will have to split it anyway, as they didn’t account for you in their cooking.”

You take the piece of bread he tears off for you, inspecting it before biting into it. You grimace. “Why is it so _salty_?” You ask with a cough.

Loki looks amused. “ _Eat_.”

You comply, silently eating the breakfast supplied for you.

When you’re both finished, Loki takes the tray and stands up, walking over to the door, he leaves it outside. When he comes back, he prepares his armour so he can change. 

“I have to meet with Queen Fárbauti today. While I do that, I will be leaving you—“

“You’re _leaving_ me?” You interrupt, eyes wide. “What if—“

“ _Let me finish,_ ” Loki says firmly, enunciating each word. “I will be leaving you in here. Bringing you to such a serious discussion will only pose as a distraction.”

“Okay,” you murmur. “How long will it be?”

“Likely a few hours, at the least,” Loki informs you, and you internally seethe. 

“ _Right_ ,” you trail off. “And I’ll just stay in here during that time?”

Loki nods. “Yes. Yes, that will work.” You note that he sounds as if he just came up with it, potentially a bad sign.

Loki changes himself in his armour through magic before sauntering over to you. He seems as if he wants to say something but stops himself before he can. You peer up at him curiously.

“I will be taking my leave now. Stay here. If someone comes in as Býleistr did, hide until they leave. As the only mortal in all of Jotunheim, a large target has been painted on your back.” 

_Great. Because that’s exactly what I needed to hear the moment you decide to leave me alone._

Walking over to the door, Loki pauses. He gestures to the area where he'd kept his armour. “There are your shoes, by the way.”

You glance over. “Those aren’t—“

“They are now.” Loki cuts you off. 

You nod your brief thanks and he leaves without another word. Sighing, you lay back against the furs of the bedsheets. _What to do for the next few hours..._

An hour later, you find yourself looking at a book that Loki left out when the door opens. You instinctively duck behind the desk that you’re sitting at, heart racing abnormally fast. 

The giant who enters seems to only be a servant of sorts, judging by how they take a bunch of items Loki had been intending to dispose of. When they leave, you race to the door.

When you’d tried to open it earlier, you’d found out that the door was locked. As a result, you’d formulated a plan on how you’d get out. _Why did you want to leave?_ To explore and to possibly find Loki, who you were _embarrassingly enough,_ beginning to miss.

You lodge the book between the door and the doorframe to ensure that it stays open. Once you succeed, you get to work on tugging the abnormally heavy door open. Eventually, you’re able to slip out, tossing the book inside the room again. 

Your heart races with terror and adrenaline.

You look around, deciding which way you want to go. Settling on going right, you sneak your way along the large hallway, looking for something that will interest you. Or Loki. _Either works._

The hallways are grand, made almost entirely from ice. They aren’t lit very well, but they’re indeed astonishingly beautiful. The floor is lined with some kind of dark blue carpet in this section of the hall, unsuccessfully keeping the cold from seeping through the floor. You’re grateful to have the fuzzy socks and those boots Loki gave you. You distract yourself with the intricate designs carved into the ice.

You wish your life wasn’t on the line so you could admire everything a bit more. You ignore your racing heart in favour of adrenaline.

As you sneak around a corner, you come face to face with two Jotun females, your heart positively stopping.

If they don't kill you, Loki sure will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When fleeing from Loki’s quarters, you hadn't expected to run into anyone, but alas, here you are, face to face with two Jotun females.

The female on the left gasps. “Greip, this is Loki Laufeyson’s mortal!” 

The other one, Greip, inspects you. “Yes. It appears that it is, Gjálp.”

Your eyes flicker between them both. They’re tall, although not as tall as some of the giants you’ve seen. They look to be young; Býleistrs age perhaps. Both have their black hair pulled into single braids, although one wears hers on the left, and the other wears hers on the right. You’ve already forgotten who is who, to your inconvenience.

“How did he acquire it?” The one on the left asks, tilting her head as her eyebrows knit together in thought.

“Hm. I’m not sure,” The other muses. There’s a pause before she speaks directly to you. “How did Loki Laufeyson acquire you, mortal?”

You look between them both, unsure who to look at when you answer. Truthfully, you don’t know what to answer. _He found you_. That’s all you remember.

Your hesitation seems to amuse them because the twins begin to giggle. 

“ _Oh_. My apologies. I had assumed you spoke.” One bows her head in apology as she giggles. When she looks up again, you notice a light dusting of purple over her cheeks. You note that she’s likely blushing. _Interesting_.

“I do,” You reply, eyes wide and nervous. _Don’t pass out,_ you tell yourself, your heart beating so fast that you fear you might. 

The twins look taken aback before their faces break into large grins. 

“What a _clever_ little creature!” The one on the left claps her hands together in excitement. 

Now it’s your turn to blush. You stay as still as your shaking will allow you to, waiting for them to potentially slaughter you where you stand.

“You did not answer,” The one who had previously spoken, giggles. “How did you meet Loki Laufeyson?”

That’s not what she’d previously asked. Before, she’d worded it as _how did he acquire you_. Now, it was worded as if you were _equals_ , something you knew you’d forever be far from. 

“I-I’m not sure,” You stutter. “He just found me, I guess.”

“He just found you, you guess? Interesting. But you are not Jötunn, are you?” The one on the left continues to lead the conversation, looking at you very intently and curiously. 

You shake your head. “No. I’m human.” 

“ _Midgardian_ ,” The one on the right corrects. Or at least you assume that she’s correcting you. Perhaps she’s just musing. You can’t tell.

The female on the left gasps suddenly, causing you to flinch. “Greip, we have not introduced ourselves!” She says in disbelief. Turning back to you, she grins. “I am Gjálp. This is my sister Greip.” 

The introduction makes you feel like you aren’t just ‘ _Loki’s pet,_ ’ and you smile before nodding.

The one you now know and will hopefully be able to distinguish as Greip tilts her head. “Do you have a name?” She asks, uncertainty evident in her voice. 

You ponder if you should tell him your actual name or just stick to being called the numerous terms you’ve already received. When Greip presses, however, you cave, introducing yourself.

“What a lovely name!” Gjálp exclaims, likely to be uneducated in names on Midgard. The names you’ve encountered here have certainly been different from what you’d ever heard, although you’re sure that somewhere on earth uses similar names.

You’re conscious of the amount of time you’ve been out of Loki’s quarters for. You’d rather get back before Loki than after he’s already back. Maybe you can make it seem like you’ve been there the whole time. _How would he be able to tell anyway?_

“I think I should be getting back to Loki’s quarters,” you say, prompting Greip to nod. 

“Yes. Loki Laufeyson will not be pleased to find you out, but you’re in luck considering his meeting with the queen.” She replies. “We will escort you back safely.”

In all honesty, you’re thankful that they’ve offered to take you back and care about your safety. You’re still on edge about being eaten or killed, so this is a better option.

When you arrive back in Loki’s quarters, he’s standing there, eyes fixed on the door, glaring. His jaw is clenched and he stays unmoving as you enter. You’d been hoping that maybe he would still be in his meeting, but _alas_.

The twins awkwardly leave, leaving you to feel just as uncomfortable. Loki’s threatening stare isn’t helping your nerves either. 

When the door shuts behind you, Loki’s face breaks out into a wide grin, his red eyes wild and angry. “How was your time, _sweet_?” He asks in a condescending tone.

Shrinking back under his glare, you mumble out an answer that will likely result terribly. “It was good.”

Loki’s eyes get impossibly darker and he lurches forwards, grabbing you, as he slams you back into the wall, his hand wrapped around your throat. “You don’t get it, _do you_?” He growls.

You struggle to breathe, the hand on your throat preventing you, as well as having the air knocked from you when he slammed you against the wall. “Get what?” You manage to choke out, hoping he’ll notice your struggling and remove his hand. He doesn’t loosen his grip.

“They will _kill_ you. They will _not_ be merciful. You are–,” He snarls. At the last part, he falters. It’s quick, however, and he regains his composure. “You are _prey_. You are a _weak_ , _useless_ thing.”

“Then why do you care?” You gasp out, your voice hoarse with his firm grip on your throat.

Loki’s hand finally loosens and he removes it, his mood seeming to completely change. “Is that what you think?” He chuckles darkly. “That I _care_?”

You don’t know how to respond without making a fool of yourself, so you stay in place, rubbing your neck, your mouth staying shut.

Loki scoffs. “That’s what I thought.” He stalks away, picking up some papers written in a language you don’t recognize, before sitting down at the decently sized desk to read them over.

Time passes slowly, Loki disregarding you while you curl up on the bed, wrapped in the many furs. Your brain is muddled with both insecurities from being the victim of Loki’s emotional mistreatment and the contentment of having the twins care earlier. Loki’s mistreatment drowns out most of the positive thoughts, however. You’ve been strong about it so far but now find it hard to keep yourself together. _You miss your home. You miss being in the comfort of someplace that wasn’t freezing all the time. You miss not having your life constantly on the line._

It feels like you’re caught in waves as you lay there, being dragged under the frigid surface of an ocean, attempting to swim back to the surface. Loki’s words and treatment do affect you. He changes at the drop of a hat, going from mildly caring to verbally berating you, speaking teasingly to condescendingly. The emotional trauma you will face when this is all over makes you curl up into yourself even more. 

Eventually, Loki approaches, and you aren’t sure if you’re relieved or disappointed about it.

He eyes you, his lips pursed, for a moment before he speaks, his voice calm. “My conversation with the Queen went well, and we are to travel to Halla Gallópnis tomorrow morning. I suggest you try to get some sleep.”

You nod in acknowledgment before closing your eyes to make it seem like you’re going to sleep.

Loki kicks off his boots and removes his armour before climbing into the bed, waving a hand to turn out the lights. His back is facing you and you stare at it for a while before falling asleep, still very emotionally confused and fearful of what is to come on this trip.

── 〔❅〕── 

When you wake up the following morning, Loki has gotten up already and seems to be getting ready. As you sit up, rubbing sleep from your eyes, he glances over at you.

Loki opens his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it. “ _Good morning_ ,” you mumble through a yawn. Loki looks repulsed when you glance back at him.

“We will be leaving shortly,” he says, turning his back to you once again, going back to getting ready.

You force yourself to get up, slipping on your boots as quickly as possible, thankful that you’re still clad in your many layers once you leave the embrace of the various furs.

You ask the question that’s been in your head ever since he first brought the trip up. “How are we getting there?”

“Sleighs,” Loki says dismissively. He doesn’t sound as rude as usual, but that might just be because he’s nervous. _At least_ , you _assume_ he’s nervous.

“So what happens?” You ask, still quite perplexed about everything that occurs in ‘ _Halla Gallópnis._ ’

“When we arrive? I’ll face the challenge of surviving the test.” 

“What’s the test?”

“You’re a _nosy_ thing, aren’t you?” Loki asks, glancing over at you from the corner of his eye, amusement evident in his expression. “The test is, put simply, my terrors and traumas. I must face them and prove I am not a coward in order to become king.”

“That sounds like a horrible system,” You shake your head. “Your traumas? They’re traumatic for a reason and you have to remember them?”

“Not remember. I will be put back into the memories of them.”

“That’s even worse!” You gasp.

Loki only nods, a solemn look on his face. “We should be on our way.” He glances out the window. “The carriages are ready.”

You feel your heart begin to race again. _This is it_ , you think, and even through your resentment towards Loki, you hope he succeeds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You travel to Halla Gallópnis.

Loki hoists you up into the sleigh in a fairly rough manner. You don’t criticize his technique, knowing that without his help, you wouldn’t stand a chance at getting into the high wooden sleigh, built for creatures much taller. 

The sleigh itself is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. It’s tall, which makes sense considering it's made for giants. Before you’re hauled inside, you get a chance to admire it for a moment or two. The sleigh is more of a carriage, but with sleigh-like features and. It’s entirely closed off from the harsh winds, and once you’re inside you’re relieved to discover that it's warm, not to mention quite spacious. There are little wooden benches on either side of the sleigh that seem to be cushioned by some fabric. 

Piled up on one side, there’s an assortment of furs and blankets. You immediately make your way over to them, enveloping yourself in the large, brown, woven one. The temperature is surprisingly comfortable when you think about it. You’d expected it to be a lot colder, so the relief you feel, knowing you’ll be cooped up in here for a while, is welcomed.

Loki lounges back against the opposite side of the space, his gaze empty as he stares at something nonexistent on the floor.

You’re tempted to ask if he's okay, but decide against it. If it had been you in his position, he’d ignore you too. He’s likely stressing about the upcoming journey and ' _test_ '. You know you would be after what you’ve heard about it.

Glancing out the window from your blanket nest, you notice it's still dark. Since arriving here, it has remained that way, only getting imperceptibly darker at night. _Jotunheim is gloomy._

You’re jolted back to reality when the sleigh begins to move. After a moment, you relax again, telling yourself it’s an adventure; it'll be _fun_. 

When you’d first seen the outside of the sleigh, you’d been able to see how it could move. There was some sort of enlarged, grey-blue rhinoceroses set up to pull it. _Obviously,_ they weren’t rhinoceroses, but they sure looked like it, so you had decided to call them that anyway.

Glancing back over at Loki, you catch a glimpse of dread on his face. He has a right to be afraid, but seeing him being openly vulnerable is unusual. 

He’s too lost in his head to see you get up, dragging your blanket along with you, making your way over to him. You sit at his side, curling yourself up against him. You keep the blanket wrapped around you as tightly as possible, burying your face beneath some of it, feeling silly now that you've acted upon your thoughts.

Loki's gaze shifts to you, but he doesn’t say a word as he slowly wraps his arms around you, holding you close. The movement causes you to end up sitting in his lap, and your cheeks flush in the sheer awkwardness of the situation.

You remain in the same position for a while, Loki keeping you against himself, his chin resting on top of your head. You’re warm, content, and comfortable, eventually beginning to drifting off to sleep, feeling oddly at ease for once since arriving here. 

The future won’t allow the feeling to last much longer though. That much you know, so you make the most of the feeling while it lasts, sleeping contently in Loki's embrace. 

── 〔❅〕──

You wake up sometime later, no longer in Lokis arms. Stifling your disappointment at the fact, you sit up, rubbing your eyes. Loki must have moved you off his lap so you were laying across the bench, still engulfed in your blanket. You're surprised he hadn't woken you up.

Noticing Loki pacing a little ways away, you watch him for a moment, inquisitively. His hands are clasped behind his back and he’s looking at his feet as he paces.

“Loki?” You ask softly, concerned. He’s never appeared so frightened, so bothered, about what’s to come.

He freezes, eyes widening minutely, before slowly turning his head to look at you. “I thought you were asleep,” He says, avoiding the concern laced in your tone.

“I was,” You reply hastily, leaving Loki to nod, now also avoiding your eyes. “Are you okay?” You continue, frowning.

Loki seems to snap back into his usual attitude at that, his expression becoming hard again. “Yes,” He says with surprising firmness. “I’m preparing my method in succeeding whatever it is I will experience when we arrive.”

Part of you wants to believe him, but another part knows that he probably knows what he will face. _At least_ , he most likely has _a_ _few ideas_ as to what it might be.

You drop the topic, standing up to walk over to the window on the side of the sleigh. Gazing out, you make note of the landscape. As you travel along, you notice that the icy cliffs appear to be cracked, beginning to crumble in certain areas. 

Sitting back down, you speak. “How much longer?” 

Loki looks solemn. “Welcome to Halla Gallópnis, mortal.”

── 〔❅〕──

You’re afraid as you both exit the sleigh, Loki's composure completely switching up to that of a confident king. While there aren’t too many Jötnar journeying with you, there are enough to worry you.

Even if you sometimes hate him, you can’t deny that Loki would make a good king. He's level-headed, typically has control over his emotions, is intelligent, and appears to understand what it's like being an outcast. He seems to think of what's best for Jotunheim and it's people, and of that future and how certain actions will affect it. Loki isn't compulsive or arrogant or reckless, and he’s travelled through many of the realms if you’ve been following the conversations correctly, which could pose as useful when needing knowledge about certain places. You don’t know what the Jötnar admire in a ruler, but if you had a say, you’d actively support Loki. 

_Gosh, it sounds like you’re obsessed with him or something,_ you think bitterly.

You watch as Loki exchanges some brief words with the Queen before he's led to an icy hall that leads into a dark cavern;The place he’ll have to suffer from his fear _. Alone._

Loki enters the hall, not turning around to say farewells to anyone around, and heads straight into whatever it is he's about to endure. You notice that no one wishes him good luck. 

Part of you is bothered that he hadn’t bothered to acknowledge you before leaving, but you think it’s probably best that way, both for his reputation and your life. You can’t help but fear the idea that he could die and you’d be left here all alone, however. 

── 〔❅〕──

Time passes at a painstakingly slow rate, leaving you to shiver in the cold as the Jötnar surrounding you murmur to one another. You're shaking from both your terror and the intense cold. The wind is howling, whipping at your cheeks in a way that might be able to leave behind bruises. 

Certain voices seem to get closer, and you nearly faint in pure horror as someone wraps something around you. They grab you, keeping you upright, allowing you to gain your footing again before they speak.

“Relax, it is only me. Do you remember me? _Gjálp_?” She says, and you shakily turn your head. You’re so thankful to see a familiar face that you nearly burst into tears, but thankfully catch yourself before you do, knowing that if you did cry, your tears would freeze. 

“ _Oh_ ,” She gasps. “You _are_ cold.”

Gjálp wraps the cloak she'd placed on your shoulders around you tighter, making sure you stay warm. 

“T-thank y-you,” You manage to stutter out through your chattering teeth.

She nods, eyeing you carefully. “Prince Býleistr said he saw you shivering, so I decided to come and rescue you,” she explains. “He did not do it himself because he wished not to scare you,” she continues, glancing over in the direction Býleistr must be in.

Your mind unfocuses again, filling with thoughts of intense emotions; _Fear, rage, grief, numbness,_ and many others. 

_They aren’t your own._

_Part of you is certain that they're Loki's._

You don’t question your discovery and don’t waste a second in dropping the cloak and racing towards the hall where Loki entered.

Gjálp lets out a startled screech, yelling your name after you, but you ignore it in favour of making sure Loki is okay. You recall his words about how people have died from this, and can’t help but fret, thinking that something has happened to him. 

No one runs after you. You think Gjálp might have tried, considering she lets out another cry that ends up being cut off, but other than whispers and gasps, you’re left to run inside. 

It’s dark and gives you a dreadful feeling, the smell damp and musty. You nearly slip a few times before you come to a wall made entirely of ice.

 _No!_ You think, fearing the worst and that Loki is now trapped inside. _Loki!_

You try to shatter the ice with your fists, but as soon as your hands come into contact with it, the ice becomes a lot clearer, revealing Loki and a traumatic event he lived through.

You watch as a much younger version of Loki, in his human-looking form, talks with an older man. _No_ , not talks; _yells_. He’s trying to get an answer to something, his expression full of pain, melancholy, horror, hatred, _betrayal_ , and many other things you're unable to name.

He doesn’t look at all like someone who would try to overtake an entire realm. Something drastic must have happened in the timeframe between the events to have made Loki have such a substantial change of plans.

You can’t take your eyes away from it, but eventually, the scene changes, revealing Loki, hanging from a rainbow bridge. Again, he looks upset and disappointed until his eyes go blank. He lets go, plummeting into the abyss below. You hear yells of anguish as he falls, and watch in horror, your eyes wide.

The scene changes again, revealing Loki, appearing different this time. He's sweaty, and he's got dark, sunken eyes. His skin is pale and there are clear burns on his skin. _Your blood runs cold_.

How do you torture a frost giant?

_With heat._

Loki must have been caught after he fell from the rainbow bridge, brought somewhere, and had his mind warped into doing someone else's bidding, through _torture_. You’re completely horrified, possessing more questions than ever, while also knowing so much more about what Lokis suffered.

There are no more memories, it seems, and the ice slowly fades as if it was never there, leaving you shocked for a moment, before you rush to Loki's side, dropping to your knees beside him. Sometime during the test, Loki must have fallen to his own knees, his eyes dull and empty, trained on the ground in front of him.

“ _Loki_ ,” You gasp breathlessly in pure relief. “You’re _okay_. You’re—,“

Lokis eyes flash to you, a deadly look residing in them. You have seen him angry, but never _this_ angry.

“ _What_ have you done?” He growls a look of pure hatred on his face. “ _Why_ are you here?” 

“I was worried about you,” You admit in an attempt to defend yourself. “I felt—“

“You are not _allowed_ to see this, _Mortal_ ,” Loki hisses. “Is this a joke to you? You interrupted a ceremony. I am _the_ _sole thing_ keeping you alive. From this, I may as well leave you to _perish_ on your own.”

Your eyes widen, and you forgot everything you’d planned on asking Loki about. He stands, brushing himself off, before grabbing onto your arm and yanking you along with him.

You don’t miss the way he shakes when he stands, however, knowing full well that however much he tries to deny his fear, it’s still there, and it’s strong.

When you get out into the open where the Jötnar is, Loki flings you to the ground, baring his teeth at you.

You shuffle away from him, trying to get to your feet, but in your terror, you find it incredibly difficult. You’re shaking so horribly, both bitter and frightened. _You’d come after him because you were worried. You had sensed something was the matter, and he treats you like this?_

Then again, he just witnessed some of the worst moments of his life all over again, so you guess that he gets a pass this time. That doesn’t change your feelings, however. 

“You have succeeded,” Queen Fárbauti announces, interrupting the silence, crimson eyes locked on Loki, ignoring you, a shaking heap sprawled out in the snow. _“Loki Laufeyson will be the next King of Jotunheim.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Loki leaves you.

There are whispers from all around. You curl yourself into a ball, looking up at Loki. He has a look on his face that you can’t quite read. It seems proud, but also blank. He’s catching his breath, still visibly frightened of what he saw. At least, _you_ think it’s visible.

Lokis red eyes flick around at the giants, _his people_. He closes his mouth, standing up straighter. Glancing over at Queen Fárbauti, Loki nods briefly. 

_Wow_ , _no thanks or anything,_ you think, holding your arm to your chest, knowing that it will be bruised pretty soon from Loki's rough handling. 

“We may resume our journey and return to Utgard,” Loki announces. He wastes no time in walking back over to the sleighs, pausing and glancing distastefully over his shoulder. “ _Come_ , mortal.” He sneers.

You scramble to your feet, not looking to be left behind, and run after Loki. 

He startles you with what he does next. 

“You will be travelling with your new friends,” He tells you, continuing with a sneer. “You seem to enjoy their company.” 

You suppress the urge to snap back at him, knowing that it isn’t worth it. 

He leaves you outside of a different sleigh, neglecting to help you inside, heading to his own. You’re left out in the bitter cold, _alone_ , expecting to be killed.

Fortunately, the twins show up, this time, with another set of twins: A male and a female.

You’re kindly helped into the sleigh, surprised after expecting them to be harsh like Loki. Once you’re inside, you immediately surround yourself in the soft wool of a blanket that’s been strewn onto the floor.

Gjálp nods when she steps inside, apparently pleased. “Good. I was very concerned about you freezing to death.” She states casually. While you think it’s sweet that she cares, you also wonder if she could have worded it a _little_ less grim.

The sleigh is reasonably crowded when you’re all crammed in together, but you manage. 

You peek over the top of your blanket, which is pulled up past your chin to maximize privacy and warmth. 

The new giants look different from most that you’ve seen. They’re the most human-looking giants that you’ve noticed, appearing smaller than most of the Jötnar you’ve seen. They have white hair rather than the usual black, and their markings are distinctive. You haven’t thought much about markings in general yet, you realize, and after glancing at Greip and Gjálp, you notice they have unique ones too. Their markings are more forest-like, comparable to vines.

Your staring ultimately draws attention, and Greip speaks up. “We have not introduced you, have we?” She asks. 

_No. When would you have done that?_ You think to yourself. As an answer, you only shake your head.

She nods, motioning to the two new giants. “This is Hrossþjófr and Heiðr. They are companions of ours.”

You can only nod, too timid to get your voice to work, wondering why the two of them have white hair.

You must be gawking again, because the boy, _Hrossþjófr_ , speaks.

“My sister and I have white hair because of our tribe. We are of the Stormr-Jötnar.”

You nod slowly. None of what he’s saying makes much sense. 

“It isn’t entirely impossible for Jötnar in other regions to have it. Though, it is much more prevalent along the coast,” Heiðr adds. 

You notice that Hross sounds remarkably similar to Loki, while Heiðr has a beautifully soft-spoken voice, her accent just as smooth.

“Ah, but having white hair is also believed to be an indicator of magical lineage, something not all regions are capable of,” Hross adds, his eyes twinkling mischievously. 

“The Stormr-Jötnar are very frivolous,” Gjálp continues, shaking her head at Hross. You’re unsure if she's annoyed or amused by his antics.

“How many tribes are there?” You finally speak.

“There are six,” Greip answers. “The Stormr-Jötnar, Skógr-Jötnar, Hrímþursar— Oh. You will not understand those names. In your language, there are the Storm Giants, the Forest Giants, the Frost Giants, the Cliff Giants, and the Canyon Giants.”

You nod, trying to take in all of the information being flung at you.

“Greip and I are Forest Giants,” Gjálp tells you. “ _Skógr-Jötnar._ Loki Laufeyson is a _Frost Giant_. They are called Hrímþursar.”

Nodding, you ask another question, one that might be fruitless, but you need the answer to after witnessing what occurred in Halla Gallópnis. “What was his family like?”

“Very complicated,” Hross says, an amused look making its way onto his face. Greip smacks his arm, scolding him. In response, Hross throws his hands up in surrender. “I am not wrong, Dearest Greip! They’re all _so_ dramatic!”

Gjálp nods, ignoring her sisters' clear annoyance. “We’ve heard tales of Loki Laufeysons mother.”

“Like what?” You ask, curiously.

“Loki Laufeysons mother cared very deeply for him. She was small herself and had no problems raising him, even though he was a very tiny baby. His father was less pleased about his son’s size, but never refused to care for Loki. 

“The night that Odin Allfather took Loki was the same night that Loki Laufeysons mother was killed.”

You take a moment to let that sink in. _His mother had cared for him but had been killed._ Your heart stings with grief. _Poor Loki._

“And on top of that,” Greip speaks up, moving away from Hross, seemingly over her annoyance. “Loki Laufeyson had cared for Frigga Allmother, who had claimed to be Loki's mother.”

“She _lied_ to him,” Gjálp says in a hushed voice, her eyes wide. She seems to find this situation very exciting and unusual. 

_Oh, Loki,_ you think, sorrowfully. _He’s been through so much yet he proceeds to keep up this harsh facade._

“His father was the _worst_ ,” Hrossþjófr muses, lounging back against the cushions. “He lied too,” He adds, nodding at Gjálp. “He _loved_ lying to Loki Laufeyson. _Once_ , he told Loki Inn-Illi that he was a Fossegrim, and—“

“That is _not_ true!” Gjálp says, enraged by such a suggestion. “He did _no such thing_!”

You’re left to wonder what a Fossegrim is while you witness a quarrel break out between Gjálp and Hrossþjófr.

“ _Hush_ , Gjálp,” Greip huffs in irritation. You notice a purplish tint on her cheeks and that she just sided with Hrossþjófr, rather than her sister. You decide to pocket that knowledge.

“There is also his brother,” Gjálp cuts in. “Thor _Odinson_. He is just as much a liar as his mother and father are,” She sneers. It seems astonishingly out of character, and you feel a sliver of fear. You’ve gotten too comfortable around them in such a short period. They could kill you _easily_.

You recollect what you’ve uncovered about Loki during the day, and even though all of Loki's hostility, you begin to form a _hatred_ for the King of Asgard.

Your vision becomes tinted with red and you clench your jaw, a fit of intense anger burning within you. Everyone notices the emotion. Gjálp opens her mouth to speak, a concerned and fearful look on her face.

“Dröttningarefni—-“ She starts, cutting herself off when Hross looks at her as if she’s insane, his red eyes going wide. 

You open your mouth to ask what that means but don’t get the chance to. Something doesn’t feel right. 

You feel something hit the side of the sleigh, sending it flying over the edge of a cliff due to the force. You're flung forwards, crashing into the wall.

You don’t have any time to process the situation because you're knocked unconscious, _the world fading to black._

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's a little shorter than usual. I've had a busy week! Thank you for reading!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world, which had faded to black when your head collided with the side of the sleigh, is slowly fading back into perspective]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for delaying this! I've been super busy and uninspired, but here we are! I hope it was worth the wait!

_Pain_.

That’s what you feel. It floods your entire body, fusing with the absolute numbness from the cold. You fret for a moment that perhaps your spinal cord is damaged, causing the numbness. It’s a legitimate fear. _What if you die? What if you already have died?_

Your head spins. 

_What about your family? Your friends? The entire life you left behind when you ended up here in Jötunheim._

You’re so out of it, your mind proceeding to spiral.

You’re thinking of Loki now, and the way his crimson eyes reveal so much about what he's thinking, despite the lengths he goes to disguise it. Sometimes, it’s almost as if you can _feel_ his emotions as well. He's so beautiful, and you’d be perfectly okay dying with him on your mind, infecting your thoughts like a disease. 

It’s then when you remember he currently hates you.

Your eyes snap open and you gasp in a breath of icy air. Your lungs sting from the sheer suddenness of it, but as your eyes adjust, a wail tears you from your trance. Your head snaps towards the sound. There, you see Gjálp clinging onto a body; _Her sister_.

You become aware of the fact that you’re almost entirely engulfed in snow, the cold seeping through your layers to reach your skin. It’s unpleasant, but it brings you back to reality. You seem to have landed on a small ledge on the cliff. Someone must have removed you from the sleigh, which is now missing from the scene.

You’re suddenly grabbed by someone, although gently, and set on your feet. Still in shock, your legs nearly buckle beneath you. Heiðr, the one who’d helped you up, helps to steady you, an unreadable look on her face.

Blinking, you glance around. Gjálp is still wailing over her sister, but you can’t seem to see Hrossþjófr anywhere.

Turning back to Heiðr you give her a questioning look. She opens her mouth to reply, but a scream stops her. You spin around, looking for the source, fear coursing through you. You’re so disoriented that it takes you a moment to realize that the scream is coming from above you. 

As you look up, you notice how far down you are from the cliff you’d previously been travelling on. You also notice that something is coming in your direction. _No_ , not something; _Someone_. It appears that Loki has flung himself off the cliff to come to your rescue, and is now climbing down the steep mountainside. You feel a surge of relief wash over you, mixing with the nerves from having to see him, and from the fact that he could potentially die. On another note, this act of playing saviour will pose as useful in getting the Jötnar to trust and respect him. You can’t imagine that this was an easy decision to make. He’s been through a lot in the past few hours, already more vulnerable than usual. This is unquestionably not helping him in _that_ way.

You hardly realize when he lands on the ground near you. You notice him glance at the two forest twins before walking over to you. 

Crouching down, Loki inspects you, before saying something to Heiðr and Gjálp. The sound of his voice is muffled, almost as if you’re underwater. Perhaps you hit your head harder than you’d thought you had.

You’re suddenly picked up by Heiðr, and carried towards a new side of the cliff wall. More muffled talking ensues, and you await whatever Loki plans to do next. Your head begins to feel foggy again, your vision going dark again. The feeling of your body being jarred brings you back to reality. You blink open your eyes, noticing that the ground is a lot further away than you’d remembered it. That’s when you realize Heiðr is climbing. 

You turn your head to the side slightly to watch as Loki climbs alongside her, a little further ahead, despite holding onto both Greip and Gjálp. Greip is unconscious and you notice now, slightly bloody, while Gjálp is sobbing too violently, unable to attempt climbing. The location of Hross is still seemingly unknown. 

Loki seems to have found a spot a bit further away from where you were previously, which has enough footholds for himself and Heiðr to scale.

You’re eventually hauled onto the top of the cliff, Heiðr dropping you rather ungracefully, visibly exhausted. You don’t know how much time passed as they climbed, but it seems to have been a while. 

Muffled noise comes from the others who had stayed safe on the cliff while you were stranded below. Some have come out of their sleighs to see the state of the King and the reckless teenagers. They don't care about your condition. 

You notice that Loki stays silent, watching Greip's limp form from where he’d set her down in the snow. 

A small, winged creature hops towards her, poking her cheek with its beak when it gets close enough. As you watch, you notice that it closely resembles a snow owl. 

“ _Hrossþjófr_ ,” Loki speaks suddenly, his crimson eyes blazing with fury. 

You can’t hold back your gasp as the owl begins to transform into Hrossþjófr. _He can shapeshift? You_ think, unable to deny your amazement. 

When he becomes fully Jötun again, he stays at Greip's side, Gjálp on her other side, attempting to get her sister to wake up.

“Back in your sleighs. _Everyone_. Be cautious. The path is treacherous,” Loki's voice rings out around the mostly-open space. 

You manage to bring yourself to a better-seated position. “ _What_?” You croak out, your expression revealing your shock and confusion. 

Loki's eyes lock on you, a stern look on his face. He doesn’t say anything and looks away quickly.

“I will be taking my mortal with me now, Heiðr,” Loki announces to the shorter-haired female. She bows her head respectfully, and you wait for Loki to seize you and drag you along with him to the sleigh. 

You’re startled when he doesn’t. He still grabs you, although much more gently than he usually does. His grip would seem bruising to any onlookers, but as the one feeling it, you’re glad to admit that it’s rather loose. 

When you make it to the sleigh, Loki brings you inside, shutting the door before he collapses onto the cushioned bench, his form switching to that of his Æsir one. You begin to tread on shaky legs to the opposite side of the sleigh, but Loki reaches out a hand to grab your coat, pulling you back. Your body collides with his, and you let out a gasp. He holds you tightly, spooning your body with his own, his nose nuzzled into your hair. His grip on you is firm, but not enough to hurt you. Still feeling the effects of being thrown off a cliff, you relax in Loki's arms. Tentatively, you move one of your hands up to his own, which are wrapped around your torso. Placing one hand atop his, you carefully intertwine your fingers. You don’t know why you’re doing it, but assume that it’s a method of comfort for you both. Loki is weak from saving you and your companions, the additional trauma from Halla Gallópnis worsening his condition.

“I should not have let you travel with them,” He says suddenly, his breath tickling your neck. 

The change of character confuses you, but you let yourself embrace it while it lasts, knowing he’ll be back to being cold and condescending soon enough. 

You don’t reply right away, and Loki seems content with that. He stays silent, his eyes fluttering open and closed as he tries to escape his uneasiness.

When you do reply, it’s in a hushed tone. “I’m sorry for entering the ceremony without your permission.”

Loki scoffs, although not rudely, and more out of amusement. “While I’m not _thrilled_ with how that occurred, I’ll be truthful and tell you that I was _not_ that angered by it. As a _good_ King, however, it’s only necessary that I show the _true_ extent of my power.”

“Oh,” You reply, unsure of what else to add. You consider bringing up what he saw in his test or anything that the two sets of twins told you, but decide against it. You seem to be having a peaceful moment and you don’t want to ruin that.

“You are fortunate Hrossþjófr managed to transform himself into an ugla and had the sense to come to find me. If he had not done so, you would likely still be stranded, possibly _dead_ by now, seeing how dangerous this path is.”

You don’t ask what an ugla is, assuming that it’s the owl-like creature.“Thank you, Loki,” This is the only response you feel like you can give. In return, all he gives you is a brief nod. 

“You must not share anything that you saw. I am the one giving you life. I can take it away just as easily,” Loki says, his tone warning yet also casual. You assume that’s just from the exhaustion, but hope that it lasts. At the moment, you feel oddly safe and at ease.

“I won’t,” You reply. Loki seems surprised by how compliant you are, but you both stay silent.

The silence lasts a while and you lay there, content in Loki's arms. He breaks the peaceful silence, however, his voice staying soft. “ _Sleep_. You must get better. Once we arrive back at the palace, it will be busy. Rest while you’re still warm.”

“How are you keeping me warm?” You ask, taking this opportunity to explore your curiosity.

 **“** _Seiðr_. Now sleep.”

You decide not to press any further and allow yourself to sleep, finding parallels with your current situation and when you’d first met Loki.

── 〔❅〕──

After a while, you wake up, yawning and stretching your muscles. In doing so, you elbow Loki in the ribs. He pushes himself back, letting out a pained hiss. 

“ _Careful_ ,” He seethes, clutching his side. 

When you turn your head to look at him, you notice a look of pain written on his face. Your eyebrows knit together in concern. “Are you hurt?” You ask.

Loki huffs, hesitating. He seems embarrassed, so you spare him having to reply. 

Nodding, you look at his side. “Can you heal it?” 

He lets out a sigh, both from the relief of not having to answer and from exhaustion. “If I _could_ , I would have already.”

“What’s stopping you?” You ask, rolling onto your back so you don’t have to crane your neck. 

“My strength is depleted because of,” Loki pauses. “ _Various_ _reasons_.”

“Like?”

“Your nosiness will get you into trouble someday, you know?” Loki tells you, but you don’t back down. He sighs, continuing. “Halla Gallópnis and using my Seiðr to keep you warm, and to keep Greip alive.”

“To keep her _alive_? Is she going to _die_?” You ask fretfully.

Loki slowly inhales, considering his answer. “She _would_ have, had I not reacted as I did. Gjálp tried her best but was too afraid, leaving her incapable of doing anything that would aid her sister.” 

You nod slowly. “Thank you.”

“ _What_?” Loki questions, a look of complete confusion adorning his face. 

You can’t help the slight smile that makes its way onto your face. He looks too adorable. “ _Thank you_ ,” You repeat. “For saving us all. _For saving Greip._ ”

“It’s what a King would do,” He tells you, shifting his gaze to the ceiling.

You shake your head. “Not always.”

“ _Yes_ , _always_ ,” Loki says firmly. You don't miss the slight blush on his cheeks.

You don’t reply for a few minutes, both of you laying there in silence. Eventually, you break the stillness. “I think you’re a good King, Loki.”

You feel almost embarrassed at the confession and roll onto your side again, facing away from him. He doesn’t say anything but eventually pulls you back into his arms, leaving you both to fall asleep again.

── 〔❅〕──

This time, when you awaken, Loki is already up, sitting and reading something. Once he notices that you’re awake, he recommends that you stray from looking out the windows so you don't frighten yourself. You can’t help yourself and stand to walk over to the window, looking out on the landscape. 

As you pass by many pillars of ice and other breathtaking views, you notice what you noticed on the way here. More mini avalanches seem to occur quite frequently as you pass by.

It’s not much longer until you get back to the palace, left with more questions than what you started your journey with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you become overly bold.

The day after you arrive back in Utgard, you don’t see Loki much. Now, King of Jötunheim, he has numerous new responsibilities to attend to. 

You’re taken to an odd-looking hut where the Witches of Jötunheim reside. Any injuries you have are being treated, although Greip still requires the most medical attention. Loki had made sure you were okay before he left, but you're aware of the probability that the witches do not like you. You're worried when they give you something that looks like a potion to drink, but trust that Loki wouldn't leave you to anyone that could cause you harm.

You notice that both Witches are rather unusual, when you sit down on a cot in the hut. They whisper in a foreign language, leaving a strong temptation to snap at them and ask what needs to be kept secret. You can hardly control your irritation when one talks about you right to your face as she observes you.

Unable to stop yourself anymore, you raise a hand to smack her own away from your face, glaring daggers at her. She stares at her hand in surprise for a moment before her gaze shifts back to you. Her lips curve upward into a smile. 

“I can see why he chose you,” She says, thankfully in a language that you can understand.

You tilt your head, giving her a look of interrogation, annoyance from before still evident. You’re mindful of the fact that you’re being unnervingly brazen with her, seeing as she is not only Jötun, but also a witch. It’s likely going to get you into trouble, but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to care.

The amused expression never leaves her face, and you become even more mind-boggled. You’re ready to question her, but the other witch speaks up before you can.

“Yes, it seems she is enduring side effects. She is much too bold for her own good. Hopefully, this new attitude will diminish soon,” She states from her position at the side of the hut.

“It shall,” The original witch says, her eyes going back to study you. “It may take a while, but her body will attempt to remove it as soon as possible.”

“ _What_? Did you _drug_ me?” You demand, your eyes wide. You're suddenly even more furious, although now at Loki as well. _Did he allow them to drug you?_

The original witch chuckles, shaking her head. “Not quite, Little One. You require something to ease your discomfort and keep you warm as Loki Laufeyson recovers. He is currently unable to use his seiðr.”

“That’s _king_ Loki Laufeyson, to you,” The other witch pipes in, scolding her partner. “He would expect you to use his title, Dagrún.”

 _Dagrún_. You'll try to remember that.

The witch, who you now know as Dagrún, scoffs. “I was fortunate enough to have assisted his mother when she gave birth to him. He is a stubborn boy, that one. Until he proves himself deserving of that title, he is Loki Laufeyson.”

“He did prove himself,” You snap, unable to repress the defensive response. “Does _Halla Gallópnis_ not ring a bell? Or how he _dove off_ a cliff to rescue his people?”

The witch seated at the side of the room gives a brief nod. “The mortal is correct, Dagrún. Loki Laufeyson is King of Jötunheim.”

Dagrún gives you both a mischievous grin. “It is a jest,” She informs you. “He makes for great entertainment when he is annoyed.”

You can’t help but smile slightly at that imagery. While yes, Loki can be scary, sometimes his outbursts are more amusing than anything. That realization doesn’t come until after the event is over, however.

“You must lighten up, Ingibjörg. Fate is falling into place,” Dagrún huffs.

Ingibjörg looks at Dagrún, her expression hardening for a moment. “Perhaps that is not a good thing.” 

You feel uneasy, the abrupt overwhelming fatigue not helping. _What fate? Why would it not be a good thing?_ You’re completely out of the loop, but appreciate it for a moment, letting yourself think that 'ignorance is bliss'.

Their ambiguous discussion goes on for a while, and curiosity gets the best of you. Opening your mouth, you’re about to ask what they’re talking about, but a voice from behind you interrupts.

“Dagrún, Ingibjörg,” Loki says, nodding in acknowledgement. “I’m here to take my mortal back to my quarters.”

Dagrún let's put a short snort of laughter. “Do you think I’m going to let you leave with her? You are the king now, _boy_. I had hoped that you would be wise like your mother was.”

You turn to look at him and watch as Loki's jaw clenches. “Thank you for your help Dagrún,” He nods curtly. “But I will be taking her with me. As _king,_ I am to decide when she goes and does not go.”

Dagrún crosses her arms. “She seems to be enjoying herself. Isn't that right, _Dróttningarefni?_ ”

Loki intervenes immediately. “ _That’s enough_ ,” He hisses, marching over to you, seizing your arm to drag you off of your perch and onto your feet. From there, he practically drags you out of the room. From behind you, Dagrúns laughter reverberates out of the room while Ingibjörg scolds her.

You’re perplexed and bitterly somnolent, likely another side-effect of whatever the witches gave you. 

It hardly renders with you when you get to Lokis quarters again. Your mind is too muddled with questions and the potion the witches used on you. Luckily, Loki is more gentle when he drags you inside, but you can sense a storm of underlying emotions brewing inside of him. 

Pushing aside your confusion around his mood, you ask the question you’re most bewildered about. “Loki, what does Dróttningarefni mean?”

“ _Nothing_. It means _nothing_. That old crone doesn't know what she is saying,” He answers quickly, his stance tense as he stands, turned away from you. 

You shake your head. “No. Gjálp said it too. They both called me Dróttningarefni. _What does that mean?_ ” You repeat yourself, becoming increasingly annoyed. The side effects of whatever is keeping you warm aren’t making you very nice. It's an especially concerning fact when you remember you're stranded on a foreign planet, surrounded by creatures who could easily kill you. You’d much prefer Loki's spell.

“She couldn’t have said it. It’s a false name, made up by Dagrún,” Loki insists, his tone firm.

“Why did it bother you so much?” You question, unsure whether you should believe him or not.

Loki pauses for a moment, his eyes trained on the ground before he looks up at you. There’s an odd look in his eyes when he speaks. _“It's what she called my mother.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder who his mother could be...
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :)


End file.
